Nothing To Sneeze At
by wisdominfic
Summary: Robin has fallen ill and wants more than anything to hide it from the World's Greatest Detective. But will Tim get himself into even more trouble in the process? Warning: Later chapters will contain corporal punishment.


Tim Drake opened his eyes and everything hurt.

He sat up slightly on his large, plush queen bed. Sunshine was streaming in through the Bay windows because he had forgotten to close the drapes the night before. It was so bright! He reached up to cover his eyes.

But it was just as well, he should probably be up anyway. He looked at the digital clock on his bedside table - 10:38am?

How could he have slept in so late? Why didn't Bruce wake him, or Alfred?

The 16-year-old jumped out of bed, his head pounding with the movement, and walked into the bathroom. He looked into the mirror. His face looked pale and tired. His throat felt scratchy, too.

Oh no, if his throat hurt...that could mean...he could be getting... a COLD! No! No! No! Now was definitely NOT the time for getting a cold. No! It was probably allergies. Yeah, a spike in mold or cedar or something.

And since the manor was surrounded by woods, well, it was probably allergies!

Tim threw on his workout clothes and headed downstairs. His head still pounded, and a sharp piercing pressure was present behind his eyes. Shake it off, Drake! Can't let Bruce or Alfred know about this! If Tim ever feels even a little bit sick, coughs a little cough or sniffs a little sniffle, Alfred is right there practically jamming a thermometer down his throat while Bruce is dialing for a doctor.

"Hi Alfred!" He managed to say cheerfully as he walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Master Tim. My, you slept late. How are you feeling?" Alfred's eyes were alight with concern.

"Oh, me?" Tim said with a forced smile, "I'm feeling great! Don't know what came over me, sleeping that long. I guess I needed it, and now I got it, so I'm good to go! Yep! I'm hungry, that's all." Tim knew he was probably talking too much. He always did that whenever he wanted to avoid a subject. Maybe he could just pretend to be hyper and Alfred would sigh and shake his head at the youthful exuberance and move on with his duties.

"Eggs, sausage, and toast, Master Tim?" Alfred still didn't look convinced.

"Sounds great, Alfy!" Tim tapped out a little rhythm on the counter top and then glanced around the room, "Where's Bruce?"

"Master Bruce is downstairs, training. He would like you to join him whenever you're finished with breakfast, if you feel up to it." Alfred began to fry the sausages on the stove, it smelled good, but almost a little too spicy and flavorful for Tim's senses at the moment. He felt slight nausea rise up within in. Maybe some oatmeal would be better...something simple, but he couldn't tell Alfred that now.

"Of course I'm up to it! Gonna be a big weekend!" Tim tried to ignore the nausea and bounced on his toes.

"Indeed. You need all the strength you can get." Alfred handed Tim a large plate heaped with fluffy scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, toast with blackberry jam, and cut-up strawberries and bananas. Tim knew he sometimes ate enough for two people, he was a growing teenager, but Jesus, this spread could feed a whole family!

"Wow, Alfie, You sure outdid yourself this time!" Tim took the platter to the table, hoping Alfred would leave the kitchen soon so he could scoop some of the abundance into the trash.

After he managed to force down some of the food, he got his chance, trashed the rest, and bounded out of the kitchen before Alfred could come back. Of course, now he would have to face Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The World's Greatest Detective, and hide a cold from *him*.

0000000000000

Oh, thank the stars! Rock music was blaring in the cave when Robin emerged into its cool recesses. If Batman was playing loud music it usually meant he was "in the zone" and didn't want to be disturbed. Tim could just work through his routines unobserved, maybe spend some time researching current cases on Batman's super computer. Ugh, but this music, it was so darn loud, it felt like his head was going to explode from the inside out. Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

"Robin!"

Tim almost fell over in surprise, Bruce was right behind him. How did he always manage to DO THAT? Tim turned around and tried a shy smile and small wave 'hello'.

"I'm glad you're here, I wanted to practice some sparring techniques after I finish some routine maintenance on the Batmobile." Bruce said matter-of-factly as he wiped his hands off on an old rag. He was wearing grey sweat pants and a black tank top, his workout attire of choice. The outfit was surprisingly devoid of grease stains or dirt, but if you knew Bruce you knew he could be very meticulous and precise if he wanted to. Tim once tried to change the oil on the Batmobile, while wearing his Robin costume. Man, he would never make that mistake again. Suffice it to say he got chewed out TWICE, once by Alfred and once by Bruce for ruining a perfectly good tunic.

"Uh, sure, okay, whatever you want!" Tim piped up, sure that his voice sounded several octaves higher than usual.

"Unless you have other work you need to get to right now..." Bruce looked right into Tim's eyes and Tim felt his heartbeat race.

"Um, well, we could spar a little bit...and then I could do some of the Mercowski case paper work..." A compromise would be logical, and surely he could push through a little bit of sparring...

"Sure." Bruce said with a curt nod and a wry smile as he walked back over to the parked Batmobile.

Tim's pounding headache throbbed in time with ACDC as he squinted in the direction of the training ring. Why me? He wondered silently. Of course, he could tell Bruce he felt terrible. Bruce would probably insist on running some tests and shoving him back into bed. That would be nice, except then Bruce would be right and Tim would be in big trouble. You see, Tim hadn't been taking the best care of himself recently...

0000000000000

"Tim! What are you doing awake?"

The boy was so started he almost fell out of his desk chair. It was 5:00am and Bruce was standing in his doorway, glowering at him sleepily as Tim quickly shut his laptop.

"N-Nothing...homework..." Tim said sheepishly.

"Tim, when I asked you earlier tonight before patrol you said you had no homework." Bruce was more than annoyed. His hands moved to his hips and he squared his stance.

"Yeah, I forgot about the corrections I had to make on my chemistry paper...I just had a few things to do..." Tim looked at the ground. He hated being caught like this.

They both stayed like that for a few seconds. Bruce standing and staring at Tim, who said in his desk chair and stared at the floor.

"Alright," Bruce broke the silence. He figured he should be more forgiving of the boy, after all, he had put in a full night's work fighting crime earlier, "Just don't make a habit of it. Good night."

The door was shut and after a moment Tim made his way to the plush, queen-sized bed in the darkness. As he dove into the covers he wondered why he just lied to Bruce. It wasn't like him to lie. But then again, Bruce probably wouldn't approve of his actions. Tim sighed aloud. He would have to apologize to Natasha88 later. Bruce surely wouldn't approve of a girlfriend. Especially an internet girlfriend.

0000000000000

Tim met Natasha on a message board about trouble shooting for Apple software, of all things. She was snarky. He was snarky. They playfully bantered back and forth about installing fonts. Maybe it was geeky...but she was really cool and nice! Then she asked if Tim wanted to talk to her on AIM, and he said yes and shared his information. Soon an AIM message popped up on his monitor.

**NATASHA~88:** Hey Tim! ;P Thanks for chatting with me!

**Go_Tim_Go:** Hey! No problem! :D

**NATASHA~88:** Having a good day, cutie?

**Go_Tim_Go:** Yes! You?

Cutie... I'm flattered!

**NATASHA~88:** Well, I was going to say hottie...but I thought that was too forward. Dammit Tim, now I'm blushing!

**Go_Tim_Go:** :D You don't need to blush. You should know... I was enamored with your icon since I first saw it. Is that really you, with the red hair?

**NATASHA~88:** Of course! Like the glasses?

**Go_Tim_Go:** Yeah! They're totally cool! I love the look.

**NATASHA~88: **I'm dying to know... A/S/L?

And that's how it started. Natasha was always online late at night, barely ever during the day. For the past two weeks, whenever Tim wasn't at school, studying, working with Batman, eating, or sleeping, he was online talking to Natasha. He sacrificed most of his sleep, only getting a couple of hours a night, but it was worth it. Tim had always been too busy to be a good boyfriend to any of the girls at school, and Natasha was so attentive. He felt close to her even though they only ever talked in text.

After Bruce caught him on his laptop, he seemed especially suspicious of Tim's behavior. He asked Tim every day if he had any homework he needed help with. Tim always politely refused and claimed the work just came with the territory of being a sophomore in AP English, Chemistry, and Biology at the same time.

"You're going to make yourself sick if you don't take care of yourself." He warned at dinner one night as Tim struggled to keep his eyes open.

"I'm fine, Bruce. Just a little tired..." Tim stifled a yawn as Bruce and Alfred exchanged knowing looks.

"Shall I lead Master Tim to bed, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, a single eyebrow raised.

"I'm not a little kid, Alfy. I can get there myself." Tim assured them as his slid from his seat and headed upstairs. Sleep would be so nice, but talking to Natasha was even nicer.

0000000000000

"You ready?"

Tim suddenly came back to the hard reality of the pounding music and the dark cave. Bruce was standing right in front of him, holding a staff and looking determined.

Hoo boy. This wasn't looking favorable.

To Be Continued...


End file.
